


Hot Set, Take One

by lonniek



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Kingsman: The Secret Service RPF
Genre: Coming Untouched, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonniek/pseuds/lonniek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on the following request from tumblr:</p><p>"You bet that Taron is a slut for hickeys. Now I am thinking of virgin!Taron meeting Colin and being embarassed and so turned on by everything and Colin being fondly amused and amazed by Taron's responsiveness."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Set, Take One

**Author's Note:**

> [lena221b](http://lena221b.tumblr.com) sent me this ask on tumblr, and it prompted a whole whirlwind of fic and feelings.

Taron thinks that his first day on set isn’t all that much unlike Cady Heron’s first day of school in Mean Girls. He sits at the wrong table twice, and gets fussed at by the hair and makeup department more times than he can count for accidentally rubbing his hands across his face or through his hair when he gets frustrated. It’s a subconscious motion that happens so quickly Taron barely registers it, but it happens often enough that he hears the frustration in the director’s voice as he yells for a cut  _again_.

Nobody says anything to him directly about it, but Taron knows. He shuffles uncomfortably in his Eggsy clothes. They fit him like a glove, but they make him feel like he’s trying to fill impossible shoes. Eggsy’s got style and attitude and doesn’t care what other people say about him, but Taron’s not that person. Inside, he’s waiting for the floor to open and swallow him whole. He feels like he’s faked his way onto the movie set, as one of the headlining actors, and now he’s going to be fired and his whole career is going to fall apart before it has a chance to get started.

They call action in the middle of Taron’s mental crisis, and instead of stepping up to his mark in Eggsy’s apartment, Taron turns on his heel and books it as quickly as he can for his trailer, cursing the unprofessionalism to his core. He hears the quiet whispers and not-so-subtle gasps as he brushes past PAs and ignores the director trying to call him back, flinging open the door and slamming himself inside. His ears ring and his face is flushed hot. Angry tears threaten to spill over the brims of his eyes, which means yet another trip to makeup after this.

Defeated, Taron looks up into the mirror. His face is starting to get splotchy with his attempts not to cry, and Taron tries to put himself in Eggsy’s shoes. Eggsy, who has friends and a purpose in life and is about to come out of the other side of a new adventure a different and better person.

“At least Eggsy gets guns.”

The trailer door opens, and he jumps out of his chair to tell whoever is at the door that he’ll be back on set in a minute. The excuse dies in his throat when he sees Colin walk through the low door frame, and Taron very consciously closes his mouth again. He’s not about to refuse Colin an audience. Not only is he  _Colin Firth_ , but he’s also been Taron’s secret celebrity crush ever since he can remember.

“You ran off so quickly, nobody could get you lunch,” Colin says as an opener, presenting Taron with a pesto and pastrami wrap and a bottle of water. Taron takes the food from him with a small smile and gestures at the other empty chair.

“I’m sorry. I meant to get back to set in a minute. I just had to–”

“You know, it’s perfectly okay to be nervous on your first day,” Colin says, cutting him off and patting Taron’s knee before twisting off the cap of his water bottle and taking a sip in one long motion. Taron’s focus switches between the way that Colin’s adam’s apple pulls down when he swallows and the way that his fingers twirl the cap in his fingers. “Nobody’s upset at you,” Colin says after Taron has to look away.

“Yeah, right.”

“They’re reminders. Don’t touch your hair or your face. Don’t miss your mark. Don’t turn before the camera does. It all gets to be a bit overwhelming sometimes, doesn’t it?”  _This is it_ , Taron  thinks. In all of his wildest fantasies, Colin Firth has never given him performance advice before, let alone comfort. Taron’s heart beats a little louder, and he pulls up his ankle to cross over his thigh. “It all gets easier to remember the longer you’re on set.” Colin pats Taron’s knee again, but this time the hand lingers there, and Taron feels the weight of each of Colin’s long fingers individually as they curl over his patella.

He’s been touched before, casually, or with friends, but this is something so much more intimate. It’s comforting in a way that makes the fire burning in Taron’s chest ease a little bit, like he can maybe do the rest of his lines today without having a nervous breakdown.

“I suppose I seem a bit ridiculous, don’t I? All worked up over nothing,” Taron says, sighing and dropping his head back. “I’m just so worried they’re gonna decide all of a sudden that hiring me was a mistake. And I’m working with  _you_ , which–er…nevermind.” Taron whips his head back up and darts his eyes at Colin for a moment, which is long enough to see that Colin’s grinning at him with a smug glint in his eyes that Taron’s only had a chance to see from the other side of a screen.

It’s a  _lot_  more arousing in person.

“No, no, I’ve heard it all. Please, continue.” Taron narrows his eyes, but relief bubbles through him. Colin’s joking with him, easing the discomfort between them.

“No, that’s fine, really. Nobody,  _especially_ not you, needs to know how I’d ever finish that sentence.”

“And who exactly would I tell?” Colin’s grip on Taron’s knee tightens in the same breath that the knot in the pit of his stomach sinks lower. Colin’s face is inches away from his. Their arms are just about touching, and the points where the pads of Colin’s fingers rest against the top of Taron’s shin are scorching hot. Colin’s face is less playful now.

“It’s nothing bad. No, the opposite, really. It’s ridiculous, really, when you hear it.” Taron shrugs and shifts in his seat, but when Colin doesn’t ease his grip on the boy’s knee to let him move his legs, Taron feels like he’s just been caught in a spider’s web. When Taron opens his mouth to speak again, his voice is considerably slower. “I have–had–have this massive, mostly professional love of your acting ability and I was so sure you were gonna outclass me in every way and I would just be this putz next to you on screen. Not to mention that how you wear your wardrobe puts male models to shame. I look like I’m some geek virgin playing around in my dad’s clothes and I’ll get caught if I’m not careful.”

There’s another silence before Colin pats Taron’s knee and stands up. “You can come eat lunch in my trailer tomorrow, if you like, Taron. You’re not alone here.” And then he’s gone and Taron spends the next half hour of his lunch stalking around his trailer trying to will away his hard on.

* * *

Taron and Colin are inseparable after that. Whether they’re watching each other film, or dicking about behind the scenes, they’ve always got a kind word and a smile, a quip here and there. Taron’s fairly certain he’s just imagining the lingering looks that Colin’s giving him, the way that sometimes Taron catches him staring at his lips or the birth mark on his neck. When he discovers that he’s been caught, Colin gives nothing away, and it’s like nothing’s different.

Until one day it is. They’ve just finished filming Eggsy’s turn on the train tracks, and Taron’s buzzing with excitement as he and Colin head back to Taron’s trailer so he can change and they can go out for dinner. The second the door is closed, though, Taron can feel that something’s different. Colin’s looking at him in a way that’s vaguely predatory, but rather than inspiring fear, it throws fuel on the fire that’s already going in his belly.

“Are you a virgin, Taron?” Colin asks before he can ask what’s going on. Taron freezes.

“What?” Colin takes a step closer, and it breaks the trance he’s in. Taron takes a step back, stumbles into a chair, and watches as Colin continues to approach.

“Your first day on set. You said you were concerned about looking like a ‘geek virgin’. You do remember that, don’t you?” Taron nods. “Are you a virgin?” Taron nods again. He feels the barest heat from Colin’s palm on top of his hand, but he can’t bring himself to look away from Colin’s lips, which hover just out of his reach. “I’m going to tell you something very important, Taron.  _Nobody_  sees you as a geek _._ ”

“ _Oh, fuck_ ,” Taron whispers weakly, and a shudder runs through him in the instant before their lips touch. Colin leans into it and they press against each other. Colin draws his hand across Taron’s cheek to hold under his jaw, and Taron pulls away giggling. He laughs harder when he sees the crease in Colin’s brow.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’ve been in love with you since I was seven. You’re Colin _fucking_  First, and you kissed  _me_. Jesus bloody Christ, man. I’ve just been kissed by Colin Firth.” Taron laughs for another minute, gasping and trying to edge back down from the hysterical ledge he’s found himself on. Colin waits patiently, head ducked down between his shoulders so he can see each minute change on Taron’s face.

“Sorry,” Taron says again. All of the tension that dissipated during Taron’s laughing fit is back with a vengeance. 

“It’s been a day full of emotion. I’d say it’s warranted,” Colin says, and winks before leaning back in until his lips brush Taron’s as he speaks. “I can do so much more than just kiss you, Taron. Would you like that?” Taron moans weakly, clinging to the arm rests of his chair, and comes in his pants.

When he opens his eyes, Colin is staring at him with slack-jawed wonder.

“What?” Taron asks, self-consciously pulling at the waistline of his pants.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Colin says nonchalantly, like it wouldn’t bother him if he were struck dead here and now. “I look forward to that moment; it will be a beautiful death.”

Taron changes and they go out for dinner, and when they turn in for the night, they lie together in Colin’s bed, curled around each other so that Colin can whisper all of the things that he wants to do in Taron’s ear. Taron comes twice more and fumbles his way through his first blowjob. He’s over eager and chokes a few times, but when he settles into a slow rhythm between Colin’s thighs, he makes Colin’s legs tremble and his fingers curl into his hair and makes him babble that Taron’s such a good boy.

Afterward, Taron takes a long look in the mirror. His lips are bruised and his entire body is spent, but he thinks maybe he can see what Colin's talking about. He puffs up his chest a little bit; he could be a good boy.

* * *

They don’t discover that Taron’s neck is going to get them into trouble until the day they have to film the scene in the hospital. They do a few different versions of it, and in one, Eggsy’s asleep with his face in Harry’s chest, a book slipping from between his fingers and JB curled up at his feet. They’ve rehearsed it: Harry’s head tilts just so to the side, like he wants to wake up and can’t, and then Eggsy startles because he thinks he heard something. They’ve shot it four times already, and the director is starting to get a little irritated because each time that Taron feigns waking up, the surprise isn’t real enough.

Colin can tell that Taron’s starting to get frustrated with the scene, so he asks for one more take and tells Taron to relax. They roll, and when Colin tilts his head to the side, he drags the tip of his tongue along Taron’s neck. Taron startles up and snaps his neck in Colin’s direction, eyes wide. He’s the perfect vision of a comatose patient once again. The director signals for lunch, and Taron’s off to the trailer like a rocket. Colin takes his time to get there, makes sure that he grabs food and water.

Taron launches himself at Colin the minute the trailer door is closed, and he’s got just enough time to put the food down and catch Taron before he’s being bombarded with kisses.

“You’re a bastard, Colin,” Taron admonishes between kisses, and then sighs when Colin noses his way across the expanse of Taron’s jaw and down his neck.

“Am I still a bastard now?” he asks, opening his mouth to press a kiss to Taron’s neck. Taron goes weak in the knees and redoubles his grip on Colin’s jacket, shivering.

“Oh, yeah. But you’ll be a bigger one if you stop.” Colin chuckles gently against Taron’s throat, but he obliges, suckling. Taron’s moan gets audibly deeper, and Colin finds himself supporting his and Taron’s body weight against the trailer door while he sucks up a mark underneath his jaw, and another one right on top of the mole on his neck.

“Fuck, fuck Colin. If you don’t stop I’m coming in my pants. Costuming’ll have my ass-oh god, oh  _god_.”

“Costuming can have your ass when I’m good and ready to hand it over,” Colin growls, sucking up another mark that makeup will have to cover up, but Taron can hardly bring himself to care as he bites into Colin’s shoulder, ruts up against his thigh, and comes. It’s a long time before Taron can do anything but breathe heavily into Colin’s jacket, and he whimpers every time Colin peppers little kisses up and down the marks on his neck.

“Somehow I get the feeling that you will never cease to amaze me,” Colin says casually. Taron chuckles.

“Back at you, you bastard.”

* * *

The makeup team doesn’t mind. They think it’s funny, and more than a little cute. They’ll never let him live it down, and two of the makeup artists like to poke at the marks when they show up, but now that he’s got Colin, Taron feels like the set’s a lot less like Mean Girls and a little more like home.

**Author's Note:**

> join the whirlwind [here](http://demigirlisaaclahey.tumblr.com)!


End file.
